


Chasing Pigeons

by Starla-Nell (Princess_Nell)



Series: The Bournshire Boys [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Beta Wanted, Fluff, No Smut, Platonic Relationships, Shale is the statue, Young Cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:23:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6956329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Nell/pseuds/Starla-Nell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why is Rosalie's best friend Ori nervous when she comes to town?</p><p>Answers the question, "Why does Cullen only write his family when he feels successful?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Pigeons

**Author's Note:**

> This is exactly how 8-to-9-year-olds behave. Remember being 9? Tag yourself/tell me about it in the comments. I was Ori, 100%.

Through the window, Ori watched the approaching family with an equal mix of delight and dread. “Look, honey, your friend Rosalie is coming.” This type of reaction was how Ori first learned that adults are not all-knowing.

  
“Yeah,” Ori tried to drum up some enthusiasm for his mother's sake. It was a bit of a relief when one child skipped away from the rest and headed for his door. The rest of the family continued on, maybe toward the Chantry.

  
“Why don’t you play outside? It’s finally gotten warm out, and you don’t get to see Rosalie often. Your father will be training at the Chantry till evening. You can finish your book any time.”

  
Just then, Rosalie reached the door and knocked. “Okay,” seemed like enough of a response. He carefully marked his place in his book with a slip of paper. Ori had just recently discovered Genetivi’s works. He wondered where the Chantry scholar would go next, and what he would find. Looking out the window again, Ori couldn’t help but smile at the grin that covered Rosalie’s face, but his dread didn’t dissipate.

  
The two kids ambled down the road together, trying to think of something to do. A few people were outside doing mysterious things with their tiny in-town gardens. A caravan had arrived just in time for tomorrow’s Market, so the local merchants’ kids were busy unloading. The breeze was fresh and warmer than it had been in months. It brought the scent of fresh-tilled but supplemented soil, plus birdsong and the lowing of druffalo.

 

“How did you even get away? Isn’t it planting season?”

  
“We finished early! Branson and I are getting pretty fast at putting the spring seeds in. And a lot of our crops are trees or bushes. We just have to keep a good eye on them.” Ori wondered what would happen if they didn’t. Would the trees wander off?

“I know,” Rosalie cried as they entered the square where merchants set up stalls and booths on Market days. “Let’s climb the statue! I love the sparkly crystals on it.” Where did she come up with such odd ideas? No one in town climbed the statue in the center of the square. No-one set up stalls inside the rail that ringed it, even on the most crowded days. Ori realized that the only person he’d seen in that area was the woman in charge of the Market. She would decorate the statue on Market days and all of the holidays. Was the statue sacred? No, that didn’t make sense, if it were sacred, then Sister Lewella would decorate it. “Comon!” Rosalie broke into his musings, ran ahead, and climbed over the rail behind the statue. Well, if it wasn’t sacred, what could it hurt? Ori took a slightly different route, between the gap in the rail, trying to remember the names of the purple spiked flowers as he walked between them.

  
By the time he caught up, Rosalie was climbing up the statue, sending the pigeons that usually roosted there flapping. Ori studied the pose, trying to divine meaning. Every statue had clues about who it represented. This one lunged, its face turned to the sky and its arms spread wide, looking like it was about to fall down on one knee and beg the sky for some great boon.

  
Ori supposed that if the Fade is sort of parallel to the real world, and the Maker’s city is in the Fade's sky, then the statue was begging the Maker. Since Andraste walks with the Maker, maybe this statue was asking Andraste for forgiveness, or –

  
“You coming?” Rosalie called from the statue’s arm. She nestled at its elbow, her legs swinging. Birds fluttered to rest on the other arm, cooing nervously. Rosalie waved at them, and they flapped away again. She looked like she was having fun.

  
“I’ve never done this before. How did you get up there?” Ori asked uncertainly.

  
The younger girl flipped acrobatically to her stomach and pointed to the back of the statue, where the bent leg was almost horizontal. “Okay, first get onto that part.” It had looked easy enough when the farm girl had done it, but the back of the statue’s leg was higher than Ori’s knee. He looked for a lower toe hold. Finding none, he swung one leg up on the statue and tried to pull himself up using brute strength he didn’t have. As his hands scrabbled for something better to grip, he cut his arm on one of the crystals. “Ow!” When he saw blood, Ori started crying a little.

  
Immediately upon seeing the cut, Rosalie clambered down from the statue to see what she could do, but Ori barely noticed. Behind him, he heard the sound that he dreaded. Rosalie’s brother was leaning on the rail, laughing. He hadn’t even known the boy was around, but of course he was. The town wasn’t that big.

  
“My little sister can climb as easy as breathing, and you hurt yourself trying the first step! Aren’t you almost my age?” Cullen taunted. The surprise was too much. That voice had worked its way into his nightmares. That very laughter featured in the worst ones. He couldn’t avoid him without snubbing his best friend, but maybe it would be worth it. Ori sat on the ground, bawling. 

  
Rosalie said, “You shut your stupid face,” and ran off. He hadn’t been abandoned, had he?

  
Unfortunately Cullen took the opportunity to add more taunts. “What is wrong with you? That wasn’t even insulting, it was just the truth. You can’t climb, you can’t run, you can’t throw. You just tell stupid stories.”

  
Cullen did finally shut up, just before his older sister, Mia, appeared. Ah, that was who Rosalie was getting. Ori was crying too hard to tell Mia where his mom was. Instead, Mia patched him up when Rosalie brought elfroot, apparently gathered in town. Their concern was enough to help control the sobbing, but Cullen was still leaning on the rail, making faces when Mia wasn’t looking.

  
“There. You’re all patched up.” Mia studied Ori as he hiccuped. “Why are you still upset?”

  
“Because he’s a baby. One look at blood and he starts bawling.”

  
Rosalie shook a finger at him before Mia could respond. “I told you to shut your stupid face.” Cullen looked sour, and mean, but Rosalie stood up to him. She was like a Champion of the Just, straight from the Chant. “He wasn’t crying until you started laughing at him.”

  
“He was too! He was crying well before I laughed at him!” Ori stopped hiccuping now, startled at Cullen’s wide eyes as he turned to Mia. There was something he feared? Someone big and mean like that?

  
Mia shot a look that caused Cullen to actually clap a hand over his mouth, eyes still wide. Then she turned to Ori kindly. “That still isn't enough to make someone as tough as you cry. What else is going on?”

  
Ori had never considered himself tough, but he realized one comment would not normally have been that devastating. He also realized he was standing (well, sitting, technically) before someone corrupt or wicked, maybe both. A trickle of righteousness gave him strength. “It’s not just today. Cullen always picks on me.”

  
Cullen’s voice finally unfroze. “That’s not true! I’m not mean to you!”

  
Ori didn’t know if the older boy believed that, but he must not falter. “When we play tag, you always tag me.”

  
“You’re easy to catch.”

  
“I try, but I always run slower. Nobody else goes after me _every_ time.”

  
Under Mia’s stare, Cullen quailed. “I’m sorry. I can go after other kids, too.” The dust on his shoes seemed very interesting.

  
This was an improvement, but once he started telling about his torment, he couldn’t stop. “You belittle my stories.”

  
“You don’t tell stories!”

  
“Yes I do! They’re about mages and history.”

 

“Those aren’t stories! You-you’re just showing off!”

 

“They’re stories from the Chant, and they’re true.” Ori spoke with the certainty his eight years gave him.

 

Cullen glanced quickly at Mia. “I didn’t know… they were from the Chant.”

 

“Cullen. It doesn’t matter whether they’re from the Chant. You should never pick on someone because they are weaker than you, or know things you don’t know.” Cullen opened his mouth, but Mia stopped him. “We will talk about this later. In depth.” She turned to Ori. “I am very sorry about how my brother has been treating you. I will talk with him. If his behavior does not improve drastically, you can tell me and I’ll take care of it.” Mia shot Cullen one more glance. “It’s time for you to go. Now.”

 

Cullen clearly knew better than to argue. He was contrite as they left the two younger kids. He should have told Mia ages ago.

 

\---

 

Cullen hung his head as he followed Mia. He tried, desperately, to figure out how to get out of trouble. What defense did he have? He didn’t know why he did it, except that there was something different about Ori. He wouldn’t play with them like other kids did. The merchant kids in town played tag and stickball, but Ori just quietly watched. It wasn’t bad, it was just _weird_.

Weird would not be enough for Mia. She led him nearly to the gates into town, where there were very few people. As long as other kids didn’t gather to watch, Cullen might not wish the ground would swallow him whole.

Mia turned around. “I’m disappointed in you.” These words struck Cullen through the heart. He tried, twice, to face her; he studied his shoes instead. “Your actions have been unworthy of you. A Rutherford, picking on someone weaker! What do you have to say for yourself?”

What could he say to make this situation better? “I’m sorry,” he mumbled at the dust.

“Lift your head, look me in the eye, and say it clearly.”

He followed her directions. “I’m sorry.”

“A good start, but there’s someone else you’ve wronged. What will you do to correct this?”

Correct it? Looking back, Cullen realized this had been going on for months, maybe over a year. “Tell Ori I’m sorry. Stop picking on him.” Cullen’s mind raced. “But that’s not enough. I will – I will become his champion. I’ll defend him if anyone else picks on him. They do, you know,” he added desperately. “I’m not the only one.”

“Good. Do you think that’s enough?”

“No.” Cullen got an idea that instilled him with confidence. He _could_ make it right, eventually. “I pledge myself to protect the weak and helpless against those who are less powerful, forever and always.”

Mia returned his gaze. “I’m going to hold you to that.” Cullen knew she meant it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Next up: What's Owain doing in Honnleath? I thought he was sent to the Tower.


End file.
